


darling, we're a paradox (but i think we'll manage)

by altissimozucca



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Daniil is exasperated, Daniil is his bodyguard, M/M, Pierre is a prince, Pierre is a sunshine, They should really learn how to communicate with each other, lighthearted fluff, some others mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altissimozucca/pseuds/altissimozucca
Summary: The prince stared at him for a while, albeit with that polite smile of his, before recognition sparked in his eyes and he said, “Hey, you’re the guy who saved me from getting run over by a car that one time.”“I was just doing my job, Your Highness,” Daniil replied easily.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Daniil Kvyat
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81





	darling, we're a paradox (but i think we'll manage)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kakkakerssi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakkakerssi/gifts).

> \- dedicated to [kakkakerssi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakkakerssi/pseuds/kakkakerssi) because you're an amazing human being and the first person who has seen the true greatness of this ship

**There were three** things Daniil learnt about prince Pierre in the years he’d been part of the Royal Defence Academy.

The first thing Daniil learnt about prince Pierre was that the prince was incredibly nice and charming without even realising it. He had a smile that would have people melting, he spoke in such a way that people couldn’t help but want to cling to his every word and he never faked his politeness, always stopping to take selfies whenever he was asked.

The second thing Daniil learnt about prince Pierre was that the prince talked a lot. Though they had never spoken to one another directly, Daniil spent more than enough time listening to him ramble on and on to Valtteri, the Head of Security, about the most random things, like a dog he’d seen or a book he’d read recently.

The third thing Daniil learnt about prince Pierre was that the prince attracted trouble. He wasn’t problematic by choice; rather, it was that trouble had its way of finding him. Daniil had seen him get pushed out of the way of an oncoming bullet more times than he could count or get caught just as he was about to fall down the stairs for the umpteenth time since his childhood.

Because of that, Daniil probably should have realised that the person standing at the edge of the road was prince Pierre. Then he maybe wouldn’t have shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you want to die?!” after tackling him to the grass and out of the way of a speeding SUV.

When the person underneath him turned their head and looked at him, Daniil felt his blood run cold. Shooting up on his feet as if he was burnt, the apology got stuck in his throat and he found himself gaping at the prince, whose eyes were wide as he looked at the bodyguard-in-training.

“I had that under control,” the prince finally spoke, voice breathless but with a teasing glint to it. He smiled at Daniil, half-squinting because of the burning sun. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, pushing himself up to his feet and brushing the back of his grass-covered trousers with his grass-covered hands.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” Daniil replied after a while, voice indifferent as if he hadn’t just saved the crown prince from an inevitable trip to the hospital and shouted swear words at him. He cleared his throat, avoiding Pierre’s eyes as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his military-green jacket.

Feeling the prince’s curious eyes on him, Daniil began feeling uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he excused himself, “I better get going… there’s things to do.”

The prince nodded at him, shooting him one of his usual, bright smiles. “Good luck,” he said.

Daniil nodded at him before leaving, feeling the prince’s gaze on him until he disappeared out of sight.

He forgot about the prince (as much as he could forget about such a public person) for a few months, busying himself with training and getting a spot as a personal bodyguard. Working as a protector of a member of the royal family was a huge honour in his eyes, as that was what his father did, and he hoped to follow in his father’s footsteps.

When Valtteri came up to him a day after one of the other bodyguards quit, Daniil was surprised. “I’ve got a place for you,” the Finn said, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at his apprentice, “Kevin quit the other day, so the spot with prince Pierre is free. I think you’re the best fit for the job.”

Daniil took the offer without thinking about it twice.

Valtteri nodded. He said Daniil would be starting at his position the following day.

Not sure whether it was because of excitement or nerves, Daniil couldn’t fall asleep until deep hours of the night. When he woke up the following morning, he felt like he’d been hit by a train, but a cup of coffee and a cold shower helped wake him up. Soon enough, he was walking down the hallways of the Royal Palace with Valtteri by his side.

His boss left him with the prince in the library of the palace, disappearing before Pierre could start another one of his long rambles or stories. The Russian stood by the side as Pierre sat down on one of the armchairs in the room, a closed book he could see was Balzac’s _Le Père Goriot_ on his lap.

The prince stared at him for a while, albeit with that polite smile of his, before recognition sparked in his eyes and he said, “Hey, you’re the guy who saved me from getting run over by a car that one time.”

“I was just doing my job, Your Highness,” Daniil replied easily.

“Well, don’t just stand there, come sit,” the prince waved him over. Raising an eyebrow questioningly, Daniil sat down, though his posture remained proper as per usual. “I don’t want you to feel as though you’ve got to be serious all the time. Lighten up, chat a little; life gets boring if your bodyguard’s boring,” the prince continued talking.

Daniil had to fight back a sigh; he had a feeling that the bodyguard jig for one of the biggest chatterboxes in the kingdom would be the death of him.

(Or maybe that would just be the prince.)

During the two weeks of Daniil constantly being by Pierre’s side, he was one hundred percent sure that the prince would be the death of him – not because he did his usual job of attracting trouble, but because _he talked so much. _If he wouldn’t have gotten imprisoned for treason or assaulting a member of the royal family, Daniil probably would’ve glued his mouth shut.

Daniil usually prided in having a really long temper. Almost nothing could get him to crack, but the prince was getting really close to it. He just went on and on about the most random things and, after two weeks of being by his side, Daniil began to realise why Kevin quit.

It wasn’t just that he talked so much. Daniil could get over that. But the prince gave himself the mission of getting emotions out of Daniil, and so far, it wasn’t working in his favour which only made him more persistent in his attempts.

Daniil felt like the Queen’s guard from Episode 13 of _Mr. Bean_. It wasn’t that he had to be stone-faced all the time; he was quiet by nature. And, working as a bodyguard for the crown prince of the royal family, Daniil didn’t feel like being serious was a bad thing.

Prince Pierre seemed to disagree.

“What music do you listen to?” he asked out of the blue one day, when the prince was in his study typing away on his MacBook and Daniil was sat on one of the chairs on the side of the room, observing the paintings decorating the walls.

“I’m sorry?” Daniil asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Pierre smiled, “Music. What music do you listen to?”

“I don’t mind anything,” came Daniil’s indifferent reply. Pierre hummed in response before playing some slow, pop music that Daniil wouldn’t ever get caught listening to. What he said was true, though – he didn’t mind any genre of music.

The prince returned to his typing, and Daniil returned to observing the painting of a woman and a dog that decorated the wall. Every-so-often, his eyes would stray to the man he was guarding before he’d avert them again in search of something else to look at.

“Do you think Father would allow me to adopt a dog?” Pierre asked after a while of silence. Daniil replied that he didn’t know, he’d not spent a lot of time around King Christian. “I think he would, but it’s better to get Max onto it, too.”

“No offense, Your Highness, but you’re twenty-four. I don’t think your Father would care,” Daniil retorted, earning a chuckle from the prince.

“I might be an adult, but my Father is still the King, and this is still his palace. I don’t think he’d mind a dog, though. Perhaps a tiny one.” He looked as though he was seriously pondering it.

Daniil didn’t know how to answer, so he said nothing. The sound of the prince’s tapping against the keyboard as he returned back to his work was the only thing breaking the silence once again.

“I want to go outside,” said the prince the next day, as he laid sprawled out on his bed with a different book (this time it was Flaubert’s _Madame Bovary) _thrown to the side. He was looking at his bodyguard with a hopeful look in his eyes despite knowing he could get whatever he wanted if he pulled the _I’m-a-prince_ card.

The bodyguard knew that the prince wouldn’t be satisfied with going to the yard of the palace; he could see the hidden meaning in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Your Highness,” Daniil replied, “The risk of getting attacked is too high this time of year.”

Pierre rolled his eyes, “Who would want to attack me and for what reason, Dany? It’s a beautiful day, some fresh air could do us good.”

“There’s fresh air in the gardens, too.” He decided to keep the comment about the nickname to himself.

With amusement clear in his eyes, the prince let out a tiny laugh, “But the gardens I see every day. They’re boring and full of old people.” That was true – during the weekdays, the gardens were usually occupied by the King’s advisors who drank way too expensive _cabernet _and chattered about politics. “Let’s go to the zoo,” Pierre offered.

There was nothing Daniil could do but comply, and so, he found himself in the passenger seat of the prince’s luxury car while the prince drove (that was another argument Daniil lost) them to the city’s zoo. The drive was silent from their parts, the only sound coming from the 70’s music playing on the radio station.

The prince bought tickets for the two of them, earning a quirked eyebrow from his bodyguard. “I don’t like using my status to get things,” he explained after happily taking a selfie with the clerk and some other people who recognised him.

Daniil stopped himself from snorting as he replied, “Yet here we are, Your Highness.” Pierre knew there was no malice behind the words his bodyguard said and hit his shoulder playfully.

Walking behind the prince as he practically skipped through the park was more interesting than Daniil anticipated. Prince Pierre was enthusiastic about just about every animal and knew all sorts of random facts about each one of them.

When they got to the bear enclosure, the prince turned to him and said, “Look, here’s you.”

“Very funny, Your Highness,” the bodyguard responded with his voice void of emotion.

The prince jokingly frowned and wiped a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye, “You wound me, Dany.”

Daniil resisted the urge to roll his eyes for the umpteenth time that day. They made their way further into the park and the prince got stopped for photos every-so-often, happily talking to the residents of the kingdom; the Russian was kind of amazed by the kindness radiating off of him in waves.

It wouldn’t have been an outing with prince Pierre without some sort of incident, though; it was as though Daniil’s morning feeling of uneasiness was a warning, a sign not to go outside later on in the day.

He caught the flash of silver before he caught the sight of the person, immediately tackling them to the ground and kicking the gun out of their hands. The man beneath him began struggling, trying to get away but Daniil kept the man pinned down; his head was bloody from how he hit the concrete ground.

Despite himself, a thought wormed its way into his head, _‘I really hope the prince isn’t watching this.’_

It took a few minutes for the security to arrive and take the man away, along with his gun. Daniil watched as he tried to struggle out of it, as he tried to escape; he didn’t look familiar in any way, his staggering the sign of intoxication that cleared up the questioning bubble over Daniil’s head.

“Let’s go,” he said to the prince, not getting a response. Pierre looked as though he was in shock, eyes wide and body frozen until Daniil took him by the elbow and repeat, “Let’s go home, Your Highness.”

Finally, he got a nod. The prince handed him the keys to his car, not wanting to drive in such a state. It was silent on the way back, with Pierre staring out of the window and his bodyguard keeping his eyes on the road.

When they were almost back at the palace, the prince finally spoke, “You didn’t have to break his nose.”

Daniil looked at him in disbelief from the corner of his eye, “He took a gun out on you, Your Highness.”

The prince let out a noise, slumping into his seat. He had a guilty look on his face, and Daniil couldn’t believe him. From the corner of his eye, he continued observing the prince until they were back at the palace, with the words, _‘What am I going to do with this guy?’_ running through his head.

Despite the incident, Pierre continued to be persistent to go outside. Daniil didn’t let him, after getting ordered so by his boss and the king; the prince tried to persuade him in different ways, and Daniil continued being ice-cold.

He knew that the prince was bored out of his mind; there’s only enough times you can go play chess with your brother and lose. But his security was Daniil’s number one priority, and if that meant locking the prince in his room, Daniil was ready to do that.

That didn’t stop the prince from continuously asking, “Can we go out?”

For a hundredth time that day, Daniil replied with a curt and firm, “No.”

“But why?” Prince Pierre questioned, a whiny tinge to his voice.

“Do you have a death wish, Your Highness?” Daniil asked instead of replying, busying himself with looking at the intricate details of the tapestry hanging in the library.

“Live a little, you stone cold asshole.” Even the prince seemed slightly surprised by his own outburst. He waited for a reaction from his bodyguard, but when he received none, he groaned and slumped back in the armchair, pulling his knees up to his chin.

From then on it was quiet between the two of them. The prince was in a glum mood and kept quiet, refusing to even look at his bodyguard. Daniil went on to browse the bookshelves in the area they were sitting in so that he could keep one watchful eye over the prince.

Daniil hadn’t even realised how much he’d gotten used to the prince talking. He always seemed to be in a good mood, excitedly explaining something to his oftentimes uninterested bodyguard with such passion in his voice, speaking one hundred miles per hour.

After an hour of complete silence, Daniil realised that he was getting bored out of his mind. Usually he’d be leaving some indifferent comments to the prince, who, for some reason, continued speaking despite seeing Daniil having zero interest in the topic.

He wasn’t used to the silence.

Prince Pierre stood up from his armchair and left to leave the room. Daniil followed suit, like a shadow; he observed as prince Max greeted his brother, taking notice of his foul mood and shooting him a worried look. The older of the princes pretended not to see.

As he went to walk down the staircase, his foot slipped and he let out a shout; Daniil once again thanked his quick reflexes as he managed to catch the heir, stopping him from plummeting into his death down the marble stairs.

Breathing heavily with eyes wide, the prince looked as though his life passed before his eyes. His brother rushed towards them, his bodyguard Daniel in tow, and began fussing over him. “Holy fuck, Pierre,” Max breathed, “I thought you were about to die.”

“See,” Pierre said, looking straight at his bodyguard with an unreadable expression on his face, “I can die in the palace just like I can die outside.” Daniel snorted, quirking an eyebrow at his colleague who let out a tired sigh.

“That’s not very reassuring, Your Highness,” Daniil commented, eyeing the prince’s wobbly leg.

The prince ignored his comment, “Can we go out now? I’m bored.”

“You’re twenty-four years old and you’re acting four, Your Highness.” Daniil ignored the laughter coming from the younger prince, arms crossed over his chest.

“Was that your attempt at humour? Because it’s not very funny,” Pierre retorted.

“It’s not my job to be funny. My job is to protect you,” Daniil replied, slowly getting exasperated by the prince. Max and Daniel seemed to be finding the whole situation amusing, watching as the two of them went back and forth.

“And you’re doing a great job,” the prince said with a grin.

“I’m protecting prince Max and being funny at the same time,” Daniel quipped from the side, earning a snort from prince Max, “It’s not that hard.”

“You’re not funny at all,” Max’s voice had a hint of fondness in it that Daniil took notice of for the first time then. Not that he heard the younger of the two princes talk often.

As the two of them went into some sort of teasing banter, Pierre nodded down the stairs as a way of telling Daniil he wanted to go outside. Daniil finally nodded but restricted the area to the garden of the palace (that was a big area in itself; sometimes he questioned why anyone needed a forest in the yard).

While they were walking, prince Pierre teased his bodyguard, “I’m going to get you to lighten up one of these days.”

“I highly doubt that,” Daniil replied, but he let a tiny hint of amusement show. Pierre took notice of it, grinning like he’d just achieved something great. Shaking his head at the crown prince, Daniil trailed after him as they made their way to the royal gardens.

They were sitting in the garden. It had been a few weeks of Pierre not leaving the palace, bored out of his mind and trying to get Daniil to lighten up; he’d never admit it, but the Russian was just pretending at this point.

Pierre was talking to him about Max and Daniel, “I feel bad for him. He’s pining over him like a lovesick puppy and everyone knows, including Dan himself, but it’s obvious Dan doesn’t feel anything for him.”

“Isn’t Daniel married?” Daniil pondered out loud, earning a shrug from Pierre.

“Max never mentioned anything,” came his reply, “But Daniel has always been quite private about his life anyway, so there’s a high possibility. Well, Max is going to learn it either the easy way or the hard way.”

Daniil said nothing in response, simply leant back on the bench and observed the waters of the pond in front of him (not only did they have a forest in the backyard, but there was a pond, too – Daniil would never understand royalty). He could feel Pierre’s eyes on him, but the prince remained quiet, too.

A feeling of peacefulness engulfed them. Daniil listened to the prince humming something under his breath accompanied by the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves under the warm, early-summer breeze. In his guard uniform (consisting of simple, but black clothing), Daniil felt hot.

It seemed like Pierre was in a similar state despite wearing lighter-coloured clothing, as he suddenly stood up and made his way to the pond. “Do you think I will get a disease if I swim in here?” he called out to his bodyguard.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, Your Highness. There’s a perfectly functional pool back at the palace,” he replied, knowing his words would fall on deaf ears; sometimes Daniil felt like a babysitter rather than a bodyguard.

His suspicions were confirmed when the prince shrugged and threw himself into the artificial pond, poking his head out of the surprisingly clear water. “It’s so good!” Pierre laughed, wiping away the strands of wet hair sticking to his forehead; Daniil felt his eyes gluing to the childish grin the prince’s lips formed.

Shaking his head at himself, the Russian made his way to the edge of the pond. He looked at the depth, surprised by how steep it actually was; there were some smaller fish swimming on the bottom, dispersing as Pierre swam to where Daniil was kneeling.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, Daniil felt himself getting pulled into the water. He dove out, spluttering and coughing as Pierre laughed at him. “What was that for?” the Russian grumbled, trying to keep himself afloat without swallowing more pond water.

“You looked like you needed a cooldown,” the prince replied, patting Daniil’s shoulder. He left his hand there, looking at his bodyguard with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I don’t appreciate getting pulled into water in my work clothes, Your Highness,” Daniil’s voice was quiet as he avoided the prince’s eyes.

Instead of responding, Pierre said, “You should stop calling me that.”

“What?” asked Daniil.

“Your Highness,” answered Pierre, “You’re with me almost twenty-four-seven. You should feel free to call me by name. We’ve spent enough time together anyway.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Your Highness.”

He hadn’t even noticed they were almost pressed up against each other until they were broken apart by the sound of hissing followed by honking. They managed to scramble out of the water, but the goose who adopted the pond as its own continued running at them.

The prince stood in shock as his bodyguard grabbed the raging animal by its neck and threw it to the side. It repeated its actions again, and Daniil did the same thing again and again until it finally gave up and entered the water, staying close to the two men.

“How the hell did you manage to catch it like that?” Pierre asked in wonder as Daniil tried to catch his breath.

“I’m Russian,” he finally wheezed out after a while.

Pierre chuckled, “Makes sense.” It earned him a laugh from Daniil, and the prince smirked in triumph. His expression softened immediately, and he wrapped his arms around Daniil, leaving him frozen under his embrace, “Thanks for saving me from the big, bad goose.”

Daniil reluctantly returned the embrace, enjoying the warmth Pierre radiated. He pulled away first, the word _protocol_ flashing in his mind like a warning. The prince shot him another bright smile before motioning to the palace, “Come on, we’re both soaking.”

Following after him, Daniil thought about what had happened and came to the conclusion that there was no reasonable explanation.

It didn’t stop him from having a restless night.

Daniil had always had a problem with getting thoughts he didn’t want stuck in his head. After the events of the previous day, followed by a sleepless night, the Russian seemed to notice the tiniest things about the man he was protecting. Per example, how he smiled at every maid in passing and asked them how they were doing, or how his facial expressions changed while he was reading something, or how he couldn’t keep his leg still.

Daniil didn’t like it one bit.

He blamed all of it on the lack of sleep. That had to be it.

Until he realised he was just lying to himself to hide the fact that his feelings for the prince went farther than just pure business, or even friendly, relationship. Daniil refused to admit it, but the thought had been nagging in his brain from when he woke up.

So, he decided to do the best thing he could think of, and that was to let the friendship he formed with Pierre to die. Eventually, the confusing thoughts would disappear, and Daniil would be able to get back on track with his work without thinking about how close the prince was pressed up to him.

Ignoring the friendliness he formed with the prince was harder than Daniil thought it would be. For the first few days, the prince seemed to be confused but he stopped talking after he realised that his bodyguard wasn’t up for a conversation. After a few days, it must’ve become apparent that Daniil wasn’t up for a conversation _with Pierre_.

Daniil should’ve known his plan wouldn’t work. Nothing ever seemed to go according to the plan when it came to Pierre. Instead of forgetting about the man he spent almost the whole day with, Daniil could only see the hurt look in his eyes and the sad frown on his face.

He shouldn’t have been that surprised when the prince called him into his room at one point, with his lips turned into a tight smile as he lead them into the room Daniil had spent a lot of time in since he started guarding Pierre a few months back. This time it felt different.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, just looking at each other with emotionless faces. Then Pierre asked, “What did I do wrong?” and Daniil was ready to run away just so that he didn’t have to have that conversation.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Your Highness,” Daniil replied, avoiding the prince’s eyes. The words were hard to say, grinding like stones against his throat.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” the prince remarked, crossing his arms over his chest with a pointed look in his bodyguard’s direction; it was as though their roles were reversed, as for once in his life, Daniil felt smaller than Pierre. “Just tell me what I did wrong,” he pushed again.

Daniil assured him he didn’t do anything again. They continued going back and forth like that until Daniil had enough and burst, “For the love of God, you didn't do anything!” Meeting the shocked gaze of the prince, his expression softened as he repeated, “You didn’t do anything.”

In the few months he’d been with the prince, Daniil learnt that he was unpredictable; an idea would cross his mind and in the next minute, he’d be at it. Nothing seemed to stop Pierre from what he set his mind to, and nothing he did could ever be foreseen.

So, when he kissed Daniil, the Russian was surprised, but at the same time he wasn’t. The feeling of the prince’s soft lips on his was unfamiliar, but Daniil relaxed into it easily, closing his eyes and kissing back.

They kept their foreheads pressed together after they separated from the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. The prince pressed their lips together again in a much shorter kiss, circling his arms around Daniil’s waist.

“This isn’t right with the protocol,” Daniil whispered, looking into the prince’s eyes and feeling him sigh sadly.

“I know,” Pierre replied.

“I will get fired if they find out,” the bodyguard continued, running his hand down Pierre’s back in a light manner.

“I know.”

Leaving Pierre’s room a few hours later felt harder than Daniil ever thought something could feel. As the door closed behind him, he leant his back against it and slid to the ground, closing his eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

“You could just ask not to be his bodyguard, you know?” came a voice from beside him. Opening one of his eyes, he looked at the younger of two princes as he stood next to him, his own bodyguard watching Daniil with pity.

“It’s not that simple,” the Russian meekly answered.

Prince Max let out a snort, “It is, though. You ask to be transferred to a different position and then there’s no protocol, just the views of the public. And fuck the public.”

Daniil let out a sigh.

He was right in feeling prince Pierre would be the death of him.

In the end, Daniil asked to be transferred back to his previous position. He didn’t have the chance to talk to Pierre before it happened, and once he saw that Daniil wasn’t by his side anymore, he refused to talk to the Russian.

In a way, Daniil felt like the deserved that. He should’ve gone over it with Pierre before making such a rash decision.

He was back to being one of the regular guards in the palace. That didn’t mean he didn’t see Pierre anymore, but he didn’t see him nearly as often as he did when he was his personal bodyguard. Seeing the sad look on the prince made guilt pool in his stomach, though, and he was really close to cornering him and talking.

But he was Daniil, and so he settled for enviously watching as Pierre chattered to his new personal guard, Alex, who seemed more talkative than Daniil ever was. The prince seemed to get along with him easily, bumping his shoulders in the same way he used to do to Daniil – but Alex laughed at it, and never stared into the distance like the Russian was prone to doing.

Daniil refused to admit he was jealous out loud.

But he was. Painfully.

He thought he was doing a fairly good job at avoiding Pierre in the enormous palace until one day he got cornered by the prince in a secluded hallway Daniil asked for that day. Mentally cursing himself for taking on the duty, he shot the prince a tight-lipped smile that fell as quickly as it came when he saw the serious look on the prince’s face.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” for the first time, there wasn’t a silence between them as the prince cornered Daniil. The prince might’ve been shorter than Daniil, but at that moment, he looked ten times bigger than he actually was.

“It’s not that simple,” Daniil replied honestly.

Pierre shook his head, letting out a frustrated groan, “Max said you’d say that.” He looked at Daniil. Daniil looked at him.

_‘Fuck it,’_ Daniil thought, pressing his lips to Pierre’s. The prince let out a quiet moan as he kissed back hungrily, wrapping his arms around Daniil’s neck.

“Do you think we can make this work?” Daniil asked between kisses, voice breathless.

Pierre let out a small chuckle, “Dany, dear, I’m the prince. Of course we can make it work.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr at altisssimozucca](https://altisssimozucca.tumblr.com/)


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